A Glimmering Sense of Hope
by Ghoullly
Summary: When Goldie finds herself shut away in a room in an unknown place with the remaining robots, she accepts their demise and awaits to be turned to scrap metal. Except upon overhearing something from workers outside, she is suddenly motivated to go and find what they were talking about to experience happiness one last time. The third and final 'installment' of the Lingering series!


Finally coming to, the lens in your glass eyes adjust to the darkness, and your pupils go white in an attempt to see through it. You sit up, the sounds of your metal joints creaking after being locked for who knows how long, and you glance around the room.

The very first thing you had noticed was how stale the tiny area you were in was. Dust particles floated around and filled the space; you assumed that if a human was in this room, they would breathe it in and damage their fragile organs. The Captain is laying in the corner, and in the opposite corner, you can see the bulky body of your little brother, his arm outstretched beside him as he lays limp, and his eyes pierce you. You nearly flinch, as you hadn't realized he was awake too. The robot of the little boy that had imprinted on him laid in the center of the room, his face pressed onto the concrete floor. His shattered nose is lying about half a foot away from him. He seems like he isn't quite aware yet.

"Goldie," you hear the voicebox of your brother croak out, seemingly clogged with the dust that engulfed the room like a quiet flame. That is merely your nickname, of course; the only other robot that knew that was the Captain. All the others who knew it died. Suddenly you are overcome with the feeling you pinned as "panic", and you can remember pacing back and forth in a frozen restaurant, fretting because you couldn't find your partner. You remembered sitting on the back table and watching the chicken move for the last time, and the bunny sing to the curious child shortly before she rested her head on her friend's shoulder and let her circuits fry. You could remember having no other choice but sit there in that dark corner of the Parts room as your "twin" brother was taken apart in front of you, eyes locked on you the whole time, trying to convey that everything was going to be all right. Trying to prevent yourself from breaking down like you had so many times before, you looked up at Teddy, who was still staring at you, awaiting his answer.

"I am awake," you call out to him. You still have no idea where you are, but there is orange light creeping under the door. This was not Teddy's pizzeria, and this was not your diner.

"D-Do you think that maybe... we're being scrapped...?" Teddy stuttered out. He had always been afraid of nearly everything, and understandably so; his stage partners were nothing but rude and snobbish and had made him so fearful he sought out the company of the group of tattered robots you had been a part of.

You honestly didn't know the answer. Not wishing to lie to him, you let out a sigh. "I would hope not." You hated the sound of your voice. It was high-pitched and nasal to appeal to the children, but to the sound of your own ears, it sounded like somebody had poured water on Freddy's and glitched it out, and you got the result (even though you had been the very first). Teddy let out a groan of fear, and you felt bad for him, but just stayed where you were. Chances were, you were going to be dead by the end of the night.

You were able to tell by the quiet whirring coming from the corner that Foxy was awake, too, but he was far from dumb; he felt the end was near as well. The three of you sat (or laid) in silence, the dust gathering slowly on your metal limbs.

BB had yet to move, and you hoped he hadn't froze up. Teddy would be devastated.

Things had gone so, so great for you in the beginning. 1978; a walking and talking (and singing) robotic breakthrough. Most people were amazed with you and flocked from every corner of the world to see you in the tiny West Virginian town your diner was home to, bringing their bulky cameras and cheeky smiles with them. The others cursed you and your creator's names; they felt you were the start of the "robot apocalypse", and that you were going to somehow control every appliance on Earth and instruct them to murder their human owners. Of course that wasn't the case. You just wanted to sing to children and make them happy.

Your bright yellow suit and purple bowtie and tophat became a familiar icon, and you were plastered all over everything from t-shirts to plastic cups. Everybody fell in love with you, and you were drowning in happiness and success and everything in between.

The only thing was, you felt you were missing something. At night, when everybody had left and you were alone in the darkness, you pulled back the curtains and peered up at the stars, wondering what it was.

In 1980, you were standing on the far side of the room as they walked in a rabbit with a suit the same color as yours. He lacked eyebrows, and his teeth were formed into a permanent smile, and he had nothing but nice things to say to you. He was a ray of sunshine. You nicknamed him Spring and he nicknamed you Goldilocks. Which was ironic, he laughed, because Goldilocks was the name of the _girl,_ not one of the bears. What you felt was missing was filled with the last puzzle piece, and you were euphoric with this new friend of yours.

For years on end, you two stood onstage and bickered and laughed and sang for the children. Often, you weren't looking at each other when you sang, but rather had your backs to each other so you could fill the room with your sound. You grew to be best friends, but at the same time, something was different about the bond you had.

The lights had been off for hours, and you sat on the edge of the stage, picking at the peeling sticker on the side of your microphone, Spring somewhere in the back. You heard him walk out into the dining room and you lifted your head, confused when you watched him place a cardboard box filled with parts on one of the tablecloths.

"Goldilocks, come here," he said, and you left your microphone on the stage as you moved over, the clicking of your locks echoing in the quiet room. You peer into the box.

"Why do you have all this?" You look up at him confusedly, raising an eyebrow. His smile beams through the black, as always, and he folds his hands near his chest.

"Okay... okay," he seems excited, and presses his palms to the table, turning his head to you. "What if, taking the parts from here and any necessary parts from ourselves, we made this little itty-bitty robot?"

You're lost, and you cross your arms, tipping your head towards the box with a weird look on your face. "How? We have no experience. What would we use for the suit?"

Closing his eyes and holding up a finger, he reaches inside his mouth and pulls out one of the plush versions of him they gave out for prizes in the corner by the door. "Or, of course, one of _your_ plushies." He places it on his shoulder, letting out a sheepish giggle. "I kinda like the ones of me, though; they're a little bigger and have longer arms and stuff."

You stare at the box, then shift your gaze up to the plush.

"What do you think?" He questions you with confidence, which was something he never lacked. Shrugging, nodding, you look him in the eye.

"I don't see why not." You agree, and he lets out a cheer. You hold up a finger of your own this time, silencing him. "But, where is it gonna go during the day?"

"Back... room...?" He grimaced in uncertainty and stuck the side of his head to his shoulder. He honestly didn't know. "Maybe it can run around undetected and maybe play with the kids? I dunno. But it'll be okay."

Starting off with a couple of the parts that were in the box he brought out, you two hid the project in the backroom behind one of the spare suits you had. Throughout the day, every day, for a couple months, one of you would slip away and remove a part from your endoskeleton and place it where it needed to go. (You had even stolen one of the decorations from the side of the stage to use its circutry and servo.) Surely enough, on a hot June evening after another day of work, you two pulled the tiny endoskeleton out and put the fabric of the plush on as best as you could, tying the pieces together with zip ties that were used for the goody bags that birthday children were given. You held the chest of the skeleton in your hands as Spring reached behind and flipped the switch nervously. When ithe lights of its eyes lit up and its core started to whir, the two of you cheered, happiness overcoming both of you. You called it Plushy, and he was sly enough to be able to run around during the day. Nobody ever noticed him, except you two of course, when you'd just catch a glimpse of bright yellow slip around a corner or into a vent. Sometimes, he'd slip under the stage, and you'd be singing, and very quietly, you two would hear a "Hi Mama," or "Hi Daddy," that you weren't able to respond to. Instead, you tapped your foot six times in acknowledgement, and he'd scurry off to play elsewhere, happy to talk to his parents.

Things were alright with the three of you for a long while. However, since all good things must come to an end, a bratty teenager had shoved his little brother into your mouth and ultimately murdered him when you had accidentally bit down and snapped his neck.

You knew what happened, but there was no way possible to stop it. In the moments that preceeded, you just prayed that Plushy was nowhere near and didn't have to watch it. Spring hadn't noticed anything had happened until he turned around after hearing the screams of adults and children alike, and witnessed several employees trying to pry the body of a small child out of your mouth. From then on, you were never really yourself; you kept your stage personality for the kids, but on the inside, you felt like you were rotting, the guilt ripping away at you. Spring reassured you that nothing was your fault, of course, but you still felt like you could've prevented it.

The very last time you ever saw him, he was trying to comfort you again - like he always did - and you had snapped and began to yell at him, seething with anger as you claimed the words coming out of his mouth were dead and meant nothing. Plushy lingered in the darkness somewhere, and you hadn't exactly wanted him to hear or see anything. Grumbling that you needed time to yourself, you stormed away and shut yourself behind the curtain.

Once sitting back there for a while, you heard footsteps behind you that were strangely light, and before you could turn around, you were on the ground and warning lights flashed before your eyes shortly before you shut down from damage. When you awoke, the employees were repairing your eye and told you that it was a normal performance day. You were confused as to why Spring wasn't next to you, but any time you tried to question it, you would never get an answer. The whole day, strange men in dusty uniforms walked back and forth from the entrance to the back hallways, carrying buckets of plaster and tools. They had never been there before. When the day finally ended, you walked back and forth, calling and searching for Spring, but you couldn't find him anywhere. Plushy also didn't respond to your calls.

Eventually plopping yourself onto center stage in this yellow heap of remorse and sadness, you came to the conclusion that Spring had grown upset with you and somehow left, Plushy disgusted with you too to the point where he wouldn't show his face. You never found out where the two of them went. You missed them both terribly, but of course you ached after Plushy more. The ache never left you and was ongoing.

Your diner shut down only a couple weeks after, and that was when Freddy and his crew were brought in. You sat in the back while they performed, but you didn't mind. You were so reserved and so alone already; you'd rather mope and dwell. His restaurant went bankrupt after a while, though, and eventually Teddy and the Toy crew were brought in in the hopes that your franchise would thrive again. It was certainly possible, but it was when five children were murdered in his restaurant that things began to snowball into the mess you all found yourself in now.

Snapping out of the past, you looked up to the ceiling, where a burnt out light bulb hung by a chain in the middle of the dust clouds. What you wouldn't give for things to be the way they used to be.

Laying down, you closed your eyes, awaiting the screen of binary to flash across your eyes that signaled servo shutdown. The quicker it came, the better. Hopefully you saw it before you were ripped apart limb by limb to be melted down and built into something else more useful.

You were ready for this unlucky life of yours to end.

...

"Why wouldn't you put 'em with the other one, you jackass?"

"I don't know where Hughes put 'im; all I knew was that they ordered the pickup of four singing animatrons, and that we had a completely empty room that was big enough for them to stay in. They're fine in there."

"I just don't understand why you can't ever handle _simple directions!_ "

"Look, it's fine. Just remember that, ah... Fredbear, Foxy the Pirate, Balloon Boy, and Freddy Fazbear 2.0 are in Room 07, and Spring Bonnie is in Room 209. Just write it down somewhere."

Your eyes shot open, and if you had moved your arms any quicker, you would've broken them. The sadness you were numb with suddenly turned bright orange and shot to the top of your core. Were you hearing correctly? Your circuits were overheating overwhelmingly fast. Sitting up, you brought your hand to your head, eyes boring through the door. Your mind was racing, and old memories were flashing in front of you. He couldn't be here...?

"Lass," you heard in the corner, and you turned your head to the Captain. "What ye be thinkin'?"

"I- I need to find him!" You stuttered, suddenly overwhelmed with excitement and motivation. Your springlocks clicking unhappily as you struggled to stand up, Teddy watched you confusedly.

"Who?" He looked over at Foxy for an answer, since you were so indulged in getting over to the door to eavesdrop that an answer from you would be useless.

"Aye, her stage partner from many, many moons ago; he's here. I never got to meet him, but th' lass used to speak 'bout him so much I feel like I have." He had yet to budge, his back to everyone else as he talked towards the wall.

You crouched down and tried to look under the door, but the slot was too thin for you to see anything. Fueled with sudden energy, you figured that since you didn't hear voices anymore, you could try and open the door. When you tried, however, the knob wouldn't bulge, as it was locked from the outside. A wave of disappointment came over you, but you weren't about to give up.

Teddy watched you as you ran around the room, looking for any sort of sign of an exit. It was a good thing you weren't wearing your suit, because if you were, there would be no way you'd be as mobile as you were now. Eyes scanning the walls, you nearly let out a cry of joy when you caught sight of an air vent towards the top.

"Teddy, Teddy! Get up! I need your help!" You ran over to him and tugged on his arm, the chubby bear nodding his head as he tried to pull his hand away.

"O-Okay, okay, Goldie, just please give me a second to get up, okay?" You felt childish, but didn't care. You needed to find him. You still had no idea where you all were.

Grabbing his suited hand, you managed to help him up, and he dusted his thighs off, glancing up at the vent. The commotion was enough to make Foxy turn around. BB had yet to stir.

"But wait, Goldie, are you sure? What if you get lost? What if you get caught?" As always, he was genuinely worried. You placed a hand on his arm. His suit was pretty much Freddy's, because so many parts had needed replaced when Clyde and Chickie ripped him to bits, so you froze a minute, but were thawed by the warmth burning inside of you to go and find your friend.

"I don't know, Ted, but I'll be okay," You reassured him, even though you knew that wasn't the case. Death would be imminent even quicker, but you didn't care. You were going to die anyway, and you'd rather die searching for... what _was_ he to you?

"Just hoist me onto your shoulders and I'll climb through." You ordered, your ability to be the one in charge taking over. Teddy knelt down and pulled you up onto his bulky shoulders, grabbing ahold of your hands and standing up. You had to duck so your head didn't hit the ceiling. Still holding one of his hands for balance, you busted the screws off of the vent and pried the cover off, tossing it onto the floor with a clang. You looked back at Teddy and Foxy for what very well could've been the last time.

"Goodbye, Goldie," Foxy rang out from the corner, bringing a hand up in a salute. "May th' waters be kind to ye."

Teddy didn't say anything, just peering up at you as he looked you over. Placing one hand in the vent, you looked back at him again.

"I'm proud of you, you know," you told him as you put your other hand into the vent.

"You are...?" He asked as he grabbed your ankles and lifted you higher. He seemed genuinely surprised and confused, but at the same time seemed like he was aching over something.

"Of course. You've been to hell and back. All by yourself, too. I'll be alright. I hope not, but if this is goodbye, then know I'm leaving you with this swelling sense of pride."

He nodded at you, hoisting you completely into the vent. Thankfully, you were small enough to fit inside.

"T-Thanks," was all he could say, and it was small.

You couldn't turn around, but you tried your best, calling out, "I love you guys."

When you got two responses in return, you hesitantly crawled deeper into the vent, prepared to have one hell of a search for your other half. Hopefully it wouldn't be in vain.

Your younger brother watched you until you disappeared into the black. You didn't know it, but even hours after, he sat there and stared up at the vents in the hopes that you'd come back. The Captain, already accepting you were gone forever, turned back towards the wall and awaited their demise. Teddy always had a tendency to be awfully unrealistic.


End file.
